


Voyeuristic Haircuts

by GraphiteWrites



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, a mix of MCU and comics, bucky get his hair cut, domestic buckynat, old fic, winterwidow - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:46:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraphiteWrites/pseuds/GraphiteWrites
Summary: Walking in on moments like this always felt more invasive than anything else to Steve. And, yes, he’s walked in on them naked. Together. Not necessarily in bed. Those moments might be private, but these ones were intimate, too.Nat was the only person he would let near his hair and it was apparently getting too long.





	Voyeuristic Haircuts

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this sitting on my computer forEVER and realized I never posted it. Set after CA:TWS; both film and comic canon thrown together. Not really proofed, so don't mind the typos.

Walking in on moments like this always felt more invasive than anything else to Steve. And, yes, he’s walked in on them naked. Together. Not necessarily in bed. Those moments might be private, but these ones were intimate, too. They connected in a way that he and Bucky never could because they lived an entire life together without him. One day, maybe he’d get the courage to ask if they would sit for him. He knew it was wrong, but he lingered just a bit.

It was late, and the three of them were usually the only ones moving around (Tony and Bruce typically barricaded themselves in their labs unless passed out haphazardly across their bed). It made for some alone time. Bucky had gone into the common room of the tower right after his shower, a towel over his shoulder and the small hair shears and comb in his hand. Nat was the only person he would let near his hair and it was apparently getting too long. She’d been sitting in there alone, reading with a cup of tea. He automatically sat down in front of her on the floor as she set aside her book, draping the towel across his back and shoulders and holding both tools out behind him.

Her smile was very soft as she ran her fingers through his damp hair and turned the TV on to some old movie. Carefully, she made a slight side part, knowing how his hair naturally flopped there and began to slowly trim his too-long locks. It was always short on the sides and back, but longer on top, cut carefully so that his vision wasn’t obscured down the sights of his rifles. Bucky’s eyes drifted closed as he listened to the hum of voices from the television. A couple of dangerous assassins looking the picture of complacent domesticity. Steve tried not to snort as he spied silently.

After a few minutes, she ran the comb through his hair once more to get the loose ends out, and then carefully folded the towel and hair clippings, setting it on the floor by Bucky’s knee. His neat cut lasted about fifteen seconds before her small hands thoroughly mussed it, giving the soldier’s scalp a good scratch. There was a low, satisfied rumble of approval as Bucky’s head fell back into her lap, her legs coming around him to rest her feet on the tops of his thighs. He mumbled something; Steve couldn’t make out what it was, but he knew it was Russian. That still felt so weird, hearing his old friend speak such a vastly different language with such ease.

Nat leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead, mumbling something in return against his skin, her fingers moving from his hair to drape over his chest. Steve watched as Bucky’s hands went from his knees to Nat’s red hair, piled in a high in a loose bun on the top of her head. His nimble, silver fingers found the hair tie and snapped it, all that red hair falling to cover their faces. Her hair had gotten long, growing past her shoulders and Tony had started calling her “Rushman” instead of Romanov. Steve heard them kiss behind the curtain of her hair and began to feel like he should really leave. But it was only a moment before Bucky was crawling up to the seat of the couch, stretching along its length with his head resting on a pillow in Nat’s lap.

She picked her book back up as she began running her fingers absently through Bucky’s splayed hair, every once in a while dragging her nails against his scalp. Bucky settled in to finish whatever movie was on even though he was probably half way to sleep already. When Steve turned to leave, he spied Nat leaning down, putting the gentlest of kisses on his best friend’s temple, lulling him to sleep in that Cyrillic language they shared.

Walking down the hall, Steve smiled to himself. Bucky was here, his friend was back. Something that even Bucky couldn’t name had been missing though, and that was filled with Nat. He was happy that these two lost warriors could find each other again, through the years and the lies. There were levels to Bucky that Steve couldn’t begin to touch, but they were levels that she had once helped him uncover. She was becoming a key to his full recovery, having been the person to peel back that disgusting programming in the past. He left the late nights to the sleepless spies as he padded back to his room, where his own blonde agent waited impatiently to go to bed.


End file.
